Hold Me If You Can (12 page)

She nodded, her heart softening for him. For this great warrior who was steeled for her to walk away. “Of course I stayed.”

He was watching her intently, as if trying to see inside her soul. “I told you, if you stayed, you were mine until it’s over.”

She rolled her eyes. “I know that. I’ll help. We’ll do it together.” She grinned at him. “I’m not afraid of you, Nigel, so you can stop worrying about it. I’m in. I’m staying. I’m not running away.”

He closed his eyes for a moment, as if drinking in the beauty of her words. Her heart began to thud, and it felt so good to see his reaction. He needed her. She could help him. He could help her. Neither of them had to take on their burdens alone. Not anymore.

“Thank you.” He opened his eyes and smiled. It was a warm expression, tender, but it was laced with a fierce fire, with male power, with the determination to dominate all obstacles.

Inside her, the womanly, sensual part that she’d tried so hard to suppress purred and stretched and beckoned to him.
Down, girl! Get down!

“I called Christian,” Nigel said. “We’re meeting him in thirty minutes at the last known portal to the Den. We’re going in.”

“Into the Den? I’m going too?” At his nod, her heart began to pound, and this time she knew it wasn’t from the sexual awareness percolating through every cell in her body. Her heart was thudding because the thought of heading into the Den was a little daunting.

Yes, a part of her was sort of curious to see this hellhole that had damaged so many men, but she’d also heard an awful lot about the horrors there. Yes, true, she wasn’t a man, so that might buy her some wiggle room with the women in there, but she would be
with
a man, a target, and she would be aligned with him, going on the full offensive against Mari. And even if her double X chromosomes gave her some indemnity, the Den and its occupants were a rather formidable opponent, and if they didn’t succeed in disarming Mari, her entire future was going to be pretty grim.

A lot of pressure and a lot of unknowns! And the last time she looked, she wasn’t exactly an All-Star when it came to battle situations. So, taking on the Den… Yeah, no problem. She could do this. Right?

Nigel smiled. “You’ll be fine. I’ll do the killing, maiming, and disarming, and all you need to do is hang around if I need you. Cool?”

She raised her brows. “Somehow, I doubt it’s going to work out quite like that.”

He grinned and inclined his head in acknowledgment. “Yeah, okay, more likely, you’re going to have to tie me down and seduce me until you can influence me so I’m under control.”

Her cheeks heated up and she swallowed hard at the visual Nigel had just put into her mind. “Um…”

“We need to leave here in a couple minutes.” He pushed off the door and walked toward her. His body was tense, his face a mixture of turbulent heat and the cold, lethal focus of a warrior. The closer he got, the larger he seemed. Not just his bulk, but the sheer intensity of his presence. He was focused on a quest, and he would sweep her up into his mission ruthlessly.

“We’re going to stop Mari from smutting me?” She stiffened as he neared, as desire began to ripple through her. “And Angelica?”

“Mari first. I think she’s the issue. I think she’s just redirecting Angelica’s old smut. Angie’s pretty out of commission right now.” He caught her wrist and tugged her toward him.

Natalie stumbled on the thick pillows that were meant for writhing in creative pleasure, not resisting a personal invasion by a warrior. “Okay, so, Mari, then.”

“We’ve got five minutes for you to tap into your power source and get me cleared up.” He tugged her the rest of the way, and she fell into his chest.

She managed to get her hands free to catch herself, but his body was hard and hot beneath her hands. “We already tried. I can’t affect you. I’m not that kind of Mystic—”

“I don’t care what you think you are, or what you think you’re not.” He tucked her against him, her body flush against his. “But I know that two of my friends are trapped because I screwed up. Plus, I almost killed you.” His grip tightened, and regret flashed in his eyes. “I can’t afford to lose it again, and you’re my best chance to make it happen. Got it?”

“With sex? I’m not really comfortable—”

“I know you’re not.” He softened his grip and stroked her hair gently. “But do you want to turn into a deedub?”

“No, of course not—”

“Do you want to eat Maggie?”

She glared at him and thumped him lightly on the chest. “It’s not fair to ask me that! You know the answer!”

“I’m just trying to get you to look at your choices and decide which is the better option.” Nigel rubbed his hand over her hip, his touch seductive and alluring. He bent his head so his mouth was inches from hers. “Do you want to be able to save yourself against the deedubs? Do you want to own your life again?”

Her breath caught in her chest, and hope flared to life inside her. “Oh, yes.” That would be a gift, a true gift. What good would a gold star rating for her store do if the deedubs could destroy the store, and her, whenever they wanted to?

His face softened with understanding. “Then you need to tap into your power source, sweetheart, and I’m going to help you. I need it, you need it, and the people counting on us need it.” He moved his hand around to her lower back, his palm searing hot through her shirt. “Do you trust me?”

“Of course.” She didn’t even hesitate. It didn’t matter that he’d snapped. It made no difference how lethal his expression was. This was Nigel. She would always trust him.

He smiled. “Then let me kiss you.”

Her heart began to race. “Um—”

“You need to tap into your power source, and that’s your sensuality.” He thumbed her lower lip. “Let me kiss you,” he said again. “I’ll keep you safe.”

Her blood was rushing so hard she could barely hear herself think. Her hands were trembling, and her belly was dancing with anticipation.

“Nat?”

She nodded once.

Nigel smiled. “That’s my girl.”

Then he kissed her.

Natalie’s entire soul came to life at the first touch of Nigel’s lips.

With the tension and battle-ready adrenaline racing through him, she would have expected a hard, controlling kiss. A kiss of possession and duty. A kiss of urgent demand.

That, she’d been prepared for. That was what she’d gotten from the Godfather. That was the kind of kiss her body and soul had betrayed her for.

But this… this… this was something she wasn’t ready for.

It was a kiss of tempting tenderness. A brush of his lips against the corner of her mouth. Then the other. The loosening of his grip in her hair until it was a soft caress, a coaxing massage.

This was the Nigel she knew. The artist who would sit for hours with his paints and contemplate. A man who had retained his sensitive side despite years of torture. She sighed with delight, and she raised her face to his, accepting and encouraging his kiss.

The kiss was of bright sunlight, of fresh air, of the silken touch of rose petals. It awakened in her a sense of freedom, of lightness, of carefree delight. It was the kind of kiss that a young girl’s dreams were made of. The kind that would turn a raggedy washer girl into a princess.

Nigel’s arms wrapped around her, burying her in the protective strength of his embrace. She snuggled against him while he continued to kiss her. She felt delicate and cherished, adored and honored, liberated and elevated. It was a kiss she didn’t need to fear. A caress that made her spirit laugh with delight, not stress, under the burden of uncontainable desire.

Nigel’s shoulders bunched, his muscles strong and protective, while he continued to kiss her. He caressed her lower back, then ran his hands over her bottom, his touch featherlight, as if he could barely believe she was real.

His lips slid over her throat, and she leaned back, delighting in the surge of relief, of rightness, of peace at the feeling of his warmth surrounding her.

“You taste magical.” His whisper was low and guttural, and it tapped into something inside that was more than peace, more than safety… into something more decadent and sensual. A heavier, weightier urgency. A yearning for him to kiss deeper, to touch more assertively. To take ownership of the kiss. Of her. It was aching hunger fueled by erotic desire and irreverent recklessness. She buried her fingers in his hair and pulled him closer.

“Yeah, that’s right.” He backed her against the wall. The plaster was cold against her back as he deepened his kiss, as it turned to a powerful seduction like the one she’d been expecting.

Excitement roared to life inside her, and she grabbed for his shoulders. She basked in the torn fabric of his shirt. She cherished the ridges in his skin from the scars of battles gone by. He was danger. He was strength. He was unbridled rage. But he was also tender, compelling seduction. And it made her crave more, more, more—

His hand moved between her legs, caressing the seam of her jeans, touching, teasing—

Desire pulsed in response, the sensual power within her she’d tried so hard to destroy after the Godfather. But now, under Nigel’s kiss, it was coming alive, fighting back, striving for freedom, thriving with more force than she could contain.

Natalie began tremble, and then she was kissing Nigel back harder, more fiercely, with passion that drove her so relentlessly she didn’t want to question it. She didn’t want to stop, but she didn’t mind. Somehow, in Nigel’s arms, she still felt safe enough to allow her passion to roar to life. She wanted it to go on forever. She needed to take it further, further, further, as far as it could go. She yearned for that high, that sense of indomitable power, that soul-deep conviction that nothing could ever bring her down.

“Tell me.” Nigel’s mouth was by her ear, his hand on his breast, flicking her nipple. “Tell me I don’t want to draw.” He bit her nipple, and she gasped at the fire that sparked through her. “Tell me I don’t need art.” His eyes were dark, and the rose on his cheek was pulsing with energy. “Tell me I’m in total control.”

And then he kissed her with a fire, a passion, and a desperation that undid her. Passion leapt through her, her belly lurched, and she gasped for air.

“Tell me,” he ordered. “Tell me now!”

Natalie closed her eyes, and she concentrated on the seduction of his hands across her hip, of his lips on her throat. On the pulse of desire throbbing deep inside her.

“Come on, baby.” Nigel kissed her again, and he slipped his hand down the front of her jeans. He palmed her belly, and then his finger slipped lower, flicked her swollen nub.

She gasped as her whole body shuddered, and she laid her hands on Nigel’s face and felt the roughness of his skin. She searched his face, saw the man she knew buried in the depths of his dark eyes. His humanity. His desperation. “You don’t need to draw,” she whispered. Her voice was hesitant, rough. Tentative.

“Again,” he demanded. He caught her hair, heat simmering in his eyes as his other hand moved lower between her legs. He thumbed her with a precision that made her body writhe with pleasure. “Say it like you believe it.” He squeezed her breast, his hand was hot, almost burning. Her legs nearly buckled and he had to brace her harder against the wall to keep her from falling. “Make me believe you’re a woman with power,” he whispered into her mouth between kisses. “Make me tremble on my knees before you. Own me like you own all those other men who come to you for help.”

Despite the strong conviction of his voice, she saw the plea in his eyes. The desperation. The fear. Her heart tightened and she held his face again, but this time softly, with tenderness, with passion. “Nigel. You’re a powerful warrior. You own the world. You don’t need art. You don’t need to draw. You’re in complete control of yourself, your weapons, and your destiny.
You
know
it.
” She felt the power of her words, of her statement, and it reverberated through her.

Nigel jerked back, releasing her suddenly, and cold air rushed over her.

Wariness flashed over his face. “I felt that.”

“Really?” She grinned. “That’s great!” Could she really do it?
Had
she done it? Her heart started to race with anticipation. “Do you feel like drawing?”

But Nigel was staring at her as if her head had spun off and she’d sprouted tentacles instead. “You are one powerful woman.”

She grinned and sort of felt like doing a little tap dance. “Really?”

“Hell, yeah.” Smoke began rising from his palms, and a metal blade flashed threateningly from his fingertips, which made her smile even more. She’d been so powerful that she’d triggered self-defense instincts from a great warrior?

Rock on, baby!

She cheerfully watched as Nigel tossed the knife aside and flexed his empty hand, happy to see he was sane and in control. Yay!

“How can I tell if it worked?” he asked.

“Oh, right. That’s true.” She supposed it was true that a burst of power didn’t necessarily mean her suggestion had been successful. Back to business. Romantic interlude and delightful self-love moment over. But even though they’d been a call to duty, those kisses, his touches… it had been amazing. For a moment, she’d forgotten to fear who she was. She’d been immersed in the present, loving life, and completely free of her baggage. Exactly how she’d wanted to be. That moment had been such a gift!

She wanted to be like that all the time. To always feel like she could sail through life with joy and be able to rise above baggage and worries and fears, and to crush any deedub who tried to upend her life or her business. And that was exactly how Nigel should be feeling if her suggestions had worked. “Do you feel like you own the world?”

He grinned at her. “I always feel like I own the world.”

“Oh… I’m a little jealous. I want to own the world too.”

His smile widened. “You keep that up and you will. I’ll have to chain you down to keep you from making the world do your laundry and kiss your toes on a regular basis.”

“Really? Wouldn’t that be cool to make the deedubs kiss my toes?” She paused to picture that. “No teeth, though.”

Nigel laughed softly, and she laughed with him. They shared a moment of relief and hope between them, and it felt so good. “I guess we won’t know for sure, not until there’s a time when you would normally need to draw. If you overcome it, then it worked. If you can’t—” She sighed, some of her excitement fading at the mere idea that she’d failed. “Then it didn’t.” She folded her arms, annoyed at how quickly she could retreat into a feeling of powerlessness. “But I did feel something happen, though, so it’s at least possible. There was power there, and that was good.”

“Yeah, I agree. You made progress. Nice job.”

She grinned. “Thanks.”

“But I need more than ‘maybe the suggestion worked’ to ensure we get out of the Den. Your suggestion has to be infallible and unbeatable, even in the face of direct attack.”

“Oh. Well.” She sighed. “I don’t know about that.” That seemed to be rather high standards for a woman who hadn’t even influenced a human two hours ago.

“Yeah, no way to know until the fire’s roaring.” He nodded and rubbed the back of her neck in a reassuring gesture. “Which is why you’re coming with me. If we have to do it again, we’ll do it again, but for now, we’ve got to go.” His phone rang, and he looked down. “Christian’s ready.” He shut his phone and unlocked the door. “Let’s hit the road.”

Um… yeah… she wasn’t feeling that everything was in order for invading hell. “But what if it didn’t work? What if my suggestion doesn’t hold? And we, um…”

“Get our asses kicked?”

“Well, yes.”

“Better to at least try. Death is always an option.” He held the door open for her, and his eyes were grim and ready. “Welcome to my world.”

But that wasn’t the part of his world she wanted to join! Why couldn’t he give her a golden ticket to feeling like
she
owned the world, huh? So much better than being in the part of his life that treaded on the edge of death on a regular basis.

Been there.

Done that.

And quite frankly, she’d vote for not doing it again.

Which, she supposed, meant she had to get it right when influencing Nigel, and let him do his thing successfully.

On the plus side, that might mean more kisses and caresses…

Oh, wait, that was a minus, right?

No, plus.

No…

“You coming?” Nigel was holding the door open, and his eyes were dark and ready for war. “Or are you daydreaming?”

“Both.” She ducked under his arm before he could ask her what she’d been daydreaming about. Telling a warrior that she was reliving his kisses was probably not the best thing to do, you know, right before they had to walk into battle.

And she was a battle girl, right? She always knew what to do in the middle of war.

Always.

Ahem.

***

After leaving Maggie and Ella in charge of the store, Nigel and Natalie were halfway out the front door of Scrumptious on their way to invade the Den when a six-horse chariot coasted to a stop in front of them. The scent of rotten bananas floated through Natalie’s nostrils before she even saw the hunchbacked, far-too-successful assassin poke his swarthy and grizzled face out the window.

It was the man who’d murdered more immortal beings that most adults could even fathom existing, let alone actually snuff the life out of.

When Augustus saw her, his face lit up, and he waved at her with enthusiasm more fitting of a five-year-old extrovert than a suicidal loner who had fewer friends than a cannibalistic rattlesnake. “Natalie Fleming! I’ve come for you!”

Natalie stopped. “You have?” It was
never
a good thing when Augustus came for you. What had she done to bring
him
down on her? Clients paid him unfathomable amounts of money for his murdering talents, and if he was after her, she’d pissed off someone really, really impressive.

“Uh, uh. You don’t get to have her.” Nigel pulled Natalie behind him in a completely endearing statement of protection and possession that she really wasn’t going to argue with.

“You are sadly mistaken, my good man. You cannot keep her from me.” The world’s most well-decorated assassin climbed out of his hot pink chariot and eased to his feet in front of them.

Well, he landed on his truncated feet. They looked like they’d been cut off in the middle, leaving him with little flesh-colored clubfeet.

Augustus had pissed off a talented black witch a few weeks ago, who’d dumped an impressive leprosy type spell on him that had taken him a while to overcome. It looked like he was finally feeling beautiful enough to go public, a feeling of self-confidence that might be debatable. After all, his skin was still a rather odd shade of green, his nose was reminiscent of deformed mold, and the crust forming where an ear used to be… well… it was just a little disturbing.

But even half-falling apart, as Augustus drew himself into a vertical position, there was power pulsing from him that made Natalie forget about his appearance and remember only the number of bodies he’d left behind.

Nigel let a blade slide out of his palm and gripped it with a silent threat as the crusty old man tipped his fedora and bowed low. “Miss Natalie, I have been dreaming of you for much time. We have a date, remember?”

Nigel growled and pulled her closer. “There will be no date.”

“A date?” A vague memory of Augustus inviting her to something drifted into her mind. It had happened while she’d been under the influence of the deedub poison, and her memory of that time of her life was a little fuzzy. Intentionally, she was sure. “Listen, I’m a little busy—”

“Of course we have a date,” Augustus said, scratching the crust where his left ear was supposed to be, apparently oblivious to the rising tension emanating from Nigel. “It’s time for tea. We discussed this several weeks ago. But I was too busy trying to kill your friend, and you were too busy dying. But we’ve both moved on, so the time is right!”

Well, on the plus side, he wasn’t there to kill her, which was always a bonus. She glanced at Nigel, whose skin was taut. His face was cold and hard, and he looked far more deadly than she’d ever seen. “Um, it’s not a good time for tea right now—”